Born to rule
by LovelyKiridia
Summary: Over time legends become altered, facts become lost. The Twilight incidence was not as clean and censored as the tales relay it. Rather, it went something like this...
1. Imprisoned

**A/N: So this was actually my first idea for an LOZ fanfiction. It takes place during TP and has nothing to do with my other stories so all that rebirth nonsense in DI doesn't apply here. Also you'll think that some of my OC characters from DI have been regurgitated here, but believe me if anything it's the other way around. This idea came to me first, I actually wrote this chapter before I started on DI, so no complaints for me reusing my characters/places. **

**This story will follow the actual game TO AN EXTENT, but a large part of it will be added stuff not seen in the game. For instance, this story will mostly consist of Zelda's point of view so she'll be playing a larger role and will likely not remain at the castle, nor will she join with Midna. Also note the dialogue may not be exactly the same.**

**A warning for unwary readers. This WILL contain spoilers. It will also contain mature scenes of torture and violence (I'll make a note at the beginning of any chapter that consists of such scenes).**

**This is what I'll be working on once DI is finished (or nearly so). I put this up just to get your opinions on it and see if anyone's interested in reading further. If you're lucky, I might update this while still working on DI, although updates may be slow with weeks in between.**

* * *

Born to rule

Chapter 1: Imprisoned

The wind blew coarsely, following the flow of water down from the gleaming banks of Zora's domain, traveling it's winding course through the cavern at the peak of northern Hyrule then to the field itself. It then banked upward as it was met with the cold stone walls of an enormous castle, and fluttered around the turrets, ruffling the black leathery wings of a shadow kargarok and breezing into the window of a high reaching tower, carrying all its chill and the scents it had gathered with it.

Zelda blinked as her hood fluttered about and tugged the hem down slightly. She gazed out over Castle Town, her point of vantage offering an unparalleled view of the landscape. She observed her people as they went about their day as though nothing had happened, as though they had nothing to fear, as though they were not aware that their fates were in the hands of a malicious usurper.

She had watched as many of her people came to the castle delivering the food and supplies that the castle needed to sustain its inhabitants. They were quickly surprised or dejected at the castle's rather cold reception. When normally they'd be allowed entry to personally deliver their wares and be greeted with a refreshing meal and warm hospitality, instead they were rejected and forced to leave the supplies for the soldiers to gather. The nobles were upset too as the castle was the main grounds for social occasions and gatherings, and that they were no longer allowed to attend court. The citizens were no longer granted personal audiences with their ruler, to complain or praise, the temple of the goddesses was closed off to them, and concerned family members of the staff were forbidden to visit. To say they were upset was an understatement. She imagined the gossip they contrived because of it, but that and the situation were both out of her hands.

In truth, her people were oblivious, all but a certain few who have been confined to the castle. It had been a silent takeover. Zant's troops and his shadow beasts appearing out of thin air in the middle of her courtyard where he'd proceeded to bar the entrance gates and slowly make his way up to the throne room, slaughtering guards and staff along the way. Her knights had fought well but were pushed back until they'd all converged before the throne in a desperate and futile stand.

It had been hopeless from the start. Her men had been taken by surprise and were unprepared for the sudden attack, and they faced magic that they could not hope to overcome. They'd been easily taken out, their necks twisted and throats ripped out, some left to live with dismembered limbs and many left to bleed their life away as they died of the most painful wounds.

And then, when only few remained, and with the goddesses bearing witness, she had surrendered.

Zant had praised her mockingly for her wise choice and had her immediately dragged off before she could even attempt to heal her men.

She'd been here, locked in this tower ever since. Heart heavy with despair and grateful of her people's ignorance so that they did not share in her pain.

She expected that when the usurper was done with her he'd hold a public execution, a harsh eye opener to the people and a firm declaration of his rule. Such a sight would possibly shatter them. She held no distorted presumptions that her citizens in any way cared for her on any personal level, other than that which was obligatory as she was the reigning monarch. But the people were dependent on their ruler, the one who watched over Hyrule in the Goddesses names.

It was disparaging, but she had hope. In times of war and unrest the Goddesses always sent a hero to conquer the land and drive out the pestilence that has corrupted it. Her visions showed her the image of a hero, tall and gallant, garbed in green and face shadowed.

She would not allow her kingdom to fall to ruin, to become an evil realm under the rule of a dark dictator.

And so she waited for the green-clad hero. Until then she would hold on, until then she would not lose faith, for what had she in her desolate existence but faith and hope.

* * *

On the opposite end of the castle the council room was barred from the outside, a giant padlock secured over the door and the shimmering of a magical barrier eliminating all chances at escape.

Contained within this room were four men and two women huddled in ornate chairs on opposite sides of a long meeting table. The chair at the far end, more lavish and grand than the others, remained empty, its void left unfilled for the past week.

One of the men, the only one not seated, stood leaning against the wall looking out a tall window onto the grounds below. His brows scrunched together in a frown, his jaw clenching with discontent.

He stroked his dark beard, his long-pointed ears twitching as he listened to his fellow council members as they conversed in low tones.

"Still no sign of the princess. The servants said they were keeping their eyes peeled for any clues, but many of the areas have been sealed off, either guarded by – by those vile beasts or locks put in the doors."

He recognized the voice of Lord Dukart, a middle-aged human with a round protruding belly that he noticed had been receding recently. Goddess knows a takeover made a good diet.

Lord Dukart went on. "The soldiers have counted up their numbers. They stand at two-hundred-"

"Two-hundred! Why our armies amount to over ten times that," the young and foolish Lord Vance Arlen cut in, his fist hitting the table exuberantly. "If we could round them up, surround them on all sides, we could easily finish them off!"

"Are you a complete simpleton!?" the Lady Yvonne Malic replied, smacking the back of the young Lord's head in reproach. "Most all of the soldiers have been sent out of the castle. The only ones remaining are the ones in the know. That leaves us with less than a quarter of our men."

Lord Arlen massaged his head, wincing and visibly irked.

"Not to mention," spoke Lord Dukart, "that the shear size of these shadow beasts are enough to make the men weep. The bulblins also have archers. If we can't get up close we'll be shot from afar." He tilted his head to the woman seated across from him. "What say you, Commander?"

General Deborah Shira was leaning back in her seat, arms crossed and eyes narrowed at the sheets of papers that she had to go through and sign. Apparently, just because they were imprisoned it did not mean they could get out of work. The usurper wanted the country to be run as it had before the invasion, with slight new implements to the laws. He didn't want the people to think that there was anything wrong, not yet at least.

Commander Shira bore holes into the papers, nose scrunched in disgust. She was a hands-on type of person and despised paperwork. But hell if Zant let her loose on the grounds. No, she had to be coiffed along with the rest of the council. As Commander of the hylian army and Minister of Defense her input was well sought out.

"You are correct in those assumptions," she said, and the man at the window noted a tint of self-disgust inflecting her tone, perhaps irritated at her helplessness or ashamed that she had been away when the takeover had occurred. "My soldiers are used to taking on monsters, but these ones possess intelligence and skill that make them far more dangerous. Not only that but the shadow beasts are difficult to fell. They raise each other from death and neither bleed nor are wounded in the ways that we're used to. And without a strong sorcerer on our side, how can we hope to match the usurper."

A collective sigh fell through the room, a long note of despair.

Lord Arlen pounded the table once more. "It all comes down to the princess. We rescue her and she can take down Zant."

The man at the window grimaced and spoke finally. "And would you, Lord Arlen, risk her highness's life with such a strategy?"

Lord Arlen opened his mouth to reply then snapped it shut, pointed ears reddening in shame as he realized the dangerous proposal he'd suggested.

The man nodded and moved away from the window. "As I thought."

He felt the large gap between their ages, and perhaps that was why the young Lord was not so deep thinking and patient as the rest of them were. He was not an old man himself, although gray did line his sideburns, he did have experience to his credit and a sense of priority, the major one being to keep her highness safe at all costs. If she ended up having to duel the usurper on her own then so be it, but such a situation would arise only if all hope was lost and Hyrule was doomed anyways. But if he could help it, he'd gather a support to help administer the deed. Another sorcerer if they could manage to contact one, but there were so few and he suspected many of them had been rounded up and shackled – both figuratively and literally – as they were. He'd settle for even a mage, but not many matched the princess's caliber and so would be useless in battle. At this point however, a mage was preferable to no one.

Lord Arlen cocked his head, raising a challenging eyebrow. "And what would you suggest, Lord Raleigh. I dare say you've contributed the least out of all of us. At least we have spies," he hissed leaning forward in his chair, "at least we have ideas," his knuckles grew white as they pressed into the wood of the table, "at least we aren't moping around waiting for some hero to do our task for us!"

His chair knocked over as he stood abruptly, teeth clenched and breaths coming out in pants. All eyes turned to Lord Raleigh, filled with expectance or disappointment.

Lord Raleigh observed him silently, neither denying nor confirming his accusations.

Waving his hands in a calming motion, Lord Dukart attempted to placate the young council member. "Now now, Lord Arlen, no need to get so upset."

Lord Arlen's eyes widened incredulously. "Upset! Of course I'm upset! I've been dragged from my home in the middle of the night, forced into the castle, locked away and told only that Hyrule is now under the rule of some tyrant King and that her highness's very life depends on our obedience!"

"Just calm down, lad. You're getting overemotional because of your close attachment to the Princess. Princess Zelda was your childhood friend, it's to be expected that you'd become irrational when it comes to her well being."

"That she was, and I have every right to be overemotional because of it! I value her life above all others!" Lord Arlen declared vehemently. "I suggested she stop Zant on her own because I know that she can defeat him! She is the most talented sorceress in all the land."

"There is something else as well," muttered lady Malic, catching their attentions. "I could sense the usurper's power. That day he brought us in, I glimpsed it, and I'm certain that it was not only his."

Lord Dukart leaned forward. "Do tell."

The others listened raptly.

Lady Malic looked about her. "There is another, a golden light that entwines with his. And even I as a simple mage can feel its enormous suffocating power. With two combined… The Princess could not hope to battle that and prevail."

Lord Arlen looked crestfallen as if all his hopes had dashed in one moment. Lord Raleigh nodded. "You are right. But there is more. I may not actively do much," at this he sent a pointed glare at the young Lord, who glared back haughtily, "but I do listen. One must remember that the ears of Hylians are attuned to many things. There is third power here. A great sorcerer." He paused and his tongue seemed to thicken with distaste, "Reth DeSange."

The reaction that single name created was tumultuous. Lord Arlen grew limp and made to fall back in his seat before he realized his chair was not there so went toppling to the floor, Commander Shira reached for the blade at her waist and cursed when she met only empty air, the rest shot to their feet, voices hollering over each other with exclamations of indignation and repulse.

"How dare he show his face in Hyrule again. How dare he!" shot Lord Dukart, his fat face fast turning purple.

"That little shite!" snarled Lady Malic, indignantly. "Should have known he'd be in on this."

Lord Arlen stuttered from his place on the ground, pushing himself woozily to his feet. "Is-Isn't he the one who was expelled from the academy? Reth the sadist?"

"And masochist, and reaper, and whatever other vile word you want to add to his name," spat Lady Malic, hands fisting tightly.

"You see the predicament we are in," input Lord Raleigh, silencing them with his deep voice. "A usurper and a madman… the Princess's death is imminent."

"No," voiced Lord Arlen hoarsely, "no!"

Lord Raleigh's eyes alighted sympathetically on the young Lord. He then honed in on the only person who had not spoken so far, who had remained quietly in his seat immersed in his thoughts. Lord Draven, also a youngish one and close friend of the Princess, had his hands folded in front of him, supporting his chin. He was not noble born like the rest of them and had earned his place through hard work and studies, but even so his bearing was such that he emulated the nobility. His long dark hair framed his face in elegant strands enhancing his pale features and bringing out the orange in his eyes.

"You've been silent thus far, Lord Draven," spoke Lord Raleigh knowingly. "Have you naught to say?"

Lord Draven's eyes quickly darted up to the older Lord's, appearing like a bright pair of eerie lanterns. He shifted his shoulders and smiled sinisterly. "Only that the usurper is a fool for allowing us all to meet together like this."

"Supposedly, we're working," chortled Lady Malic. The others chuckled at this.

The side of Lord Draven's mouth twitched, never relinquishing his smirk. "Supposedly," he muttered, then coughed, straightening up. "Ladies, gentlemen… are we all in agreement that our first matter of action should be relocating the Princess to a more secure environment in order to establish her protection and safety?"

All nodded and murmured agreement.

Lord Draven continued on, eyes glinting. "Then perhaps you'd like to hear this little tidbit as to her potential location."

Lord Arlen, the eternal rival of Lord Draven, scoffed and crossed his arms, sitting on the edge of the table. "Potential, he say's."

Shrugging, lord Dukart defended. "Better than what you've got at the mo. Well, speak up, lad. What have ye to say?"

Lord Raleigh could feel the flames of hope alighting in all the council members, for if Princess Zelda was found they could plan her escape and then there'd be no threat dangling over their heads to prevent them from revolting.

Assuring that he had all of their attentions, Lord Draven spoke. "The servant who attends to me was told by one of the maids - Miria her name was, the darling girl - of a daring endeavor she partook in one night when she noticed a missing sentry."

They were all hanging onto his words now, their breaths shallow and nerves strained.

"Taking a chance she snuck into a banned corridor to search it. And what did she find? A darkened staircase devoid of light and life. So our lovely girl ventures to the top but dares not go farther for on the landing she sees no less than four _Darknuts_ guarding yet another set of stairs."

His orange eyes, alit with an excited glow, swept over his companions. "Do you realize what this implies?" He stood and, hands clasped behind his back, wandered to Lord Raleigh's previous spot at the window as the council's eyes followed him.

Lord Arlen, a brightness in his expression that hadn't been there before, was quick to speak up. "For Darknuts to be there, and two pairs of them no less, they'd have to be guarding something of great importance."

"Or someone," whispered Lady Malic, her pitch rising in unbridled excitement.

Lord Draven was practically beaming at them. "It means, ladies and gentlemen, that our great and esteemed ruler awaits her rescue from that tower!" He pointed delightedly out the window and everyone shot out of their seats to look, all huddling closely.

"The southwestern tower?" exclaimed Lord Dukart.

"The southwestern tower!" said Lord Draven blithely. "I can see no other place she could be. Out of the banned sections, _that_ is our best chance."

Commander Shira moved back towards the table and reached underneath it to a panel. She unlatched it and withdrew a rolled up parchment, which she then spread on the table and perused. It was a rough outline of the blueprints of the castle, made by memory and recent exploration. She started it a few days ago when it had occurred to her that it would be helpful to have an outline of the shadow monsters' routines and patrol routes. They also used it to theorize where was kept their beloved ruler.

The others came over and thronged around it. General Shira took out a pen and circled the southwestern tower, writing a Z with a question mark above it and two bolded I's within the circle.

"So, now we know we have at least four Darknuts in the castle. More to come, I'm sure. But, I'd like to make certain this is the location where the Princess is kept," she said, capping the pen and looking over the parchment.

"But," inserted Lord Arlen, "with that in mind, we can progress to formulating a plan on how to execute her rescue."

A scuffling of footsteps on the other side of the door caused them all to freeze. They waited with baited breaths until the disturbance had gone, then sighed in relief.

Commander Shira quickly rolled up the scroll and hid it in the panel.

Lord Raleigh sighed. "We haven't done much in the way of work today. I suggest we all get as much as we can done now and reconvene on the morrow."

Nods of agreement met him all around and not even the boisterous Lord Arlen made to defy him. They withdrew their pens and went back to work, plugging on as best they could in these dark times.

* * *

Down on the streets of Castle Town, Sergeant Clar was making his rounds with his fellow soldier. He walked slowly, a heaviness about his steps, and hardly paying attention to his surroundings. He winced at every laugh and cheery voice from the people, as if each was a nail driven inside his flesh. The pair travelled their route, making sure that all was well.

His companion, a bright chipper young Private by the name of Kine Pauling, was waving and smiling at all the merry doers whenever they looked his way.

Sergeant Clar was nudged on the arm.

"Cheer up, sir. Why, with your less than amiable demeanor people will start to wonder if there's something bothering you."

Sergeant Clar dismissed the soldier for the most part, preferring to dwell on his morbid thoughts. He gazed at the dark cast sky swarmed with the most malevolent clouds he'd ever set eyes upon, then his eyes swerved to the shadows that darkened the streets. Who knew what vile evils they hid within them. They were all doomed.

What he couldn't understand was how his companion could look at it all and see light.

"Lo! That dress looks lovely on you, wonderfully charming!" the soldier called over to a group of women. Not knowing exactly who he was addressing they all giggled and flattered themselves with the thought it was them.

Kine smiled broadly and waved as they passed.

Sergeant Clar wanted to weep.

Most of the soldiers did not understand the reasoning for his dour mood, nor the sudden change in moods for a small minority of the soldiers. They went about their day as normal, casually wondering why only a select few of them were granted access to the castle, and curious to why those not of the select few had all been moved to the soldier housing sector of Castle Town.

The Sergeant scowled. Let them all be clueless and live happily among the people. Better than living in the barracks within the castle walls themselves, where doom and gloom hung over all heads, and they had to interact with monsters and fiends and the like. Their orders written down on paper passed from the councilors to the servants to the soldiers, no longer by word of mouth, and always reviewed by one of the usurper's fiends.

A battle raged in the Sergeant. To know, or not to know. To be ignorant, or to have full knowledge of the goings on in the castle. On one side, you have happy dainty soldiers, who although negligent in their training and lacking refined discipline, sufficed to protect the town. On the other side, you have a saddened and despondent assembly of soldiers. Soldiers terrified of their own shadows, who suffered from night terrors, and worst of all, were entirely helpless. And that was the torture, the inability to do anything about their circumstance. At any moment one of those shadow fiends could pop out and start tearing off heads, but they weren't allowed to kill it, not even attempt to. They were forced to stand back, go on with their duty, become indifferent to another's plight.

"Hey," said Kine, in an effort to grab the Sergeant's attention. "How about we go over to Telma's after our rounds. It will be well dark by then."

Sergeant Clar winced at that very word. Couldn't he see? Everything was already dark, enshrouded so thickly it was a wonder they didn't suffocate.

"You look like you could use a bit of ale. That's where the other boys all go. You can even mope and weep with them all you want!"

"And what, pray tell, drives you to be so happy in this time of sorrow," the Sergeant said in a hollow voice. "How can you be so cheerful with all that's happening, with the knowledge of all that's going on?"

The Private had been one of the fortunate few in the castle to suffer only minor injuries. He was lucky that he'd merely got battered around a bit then bopped on the head and tossed to a corner. Probably just as lucky as the Sergeant then. The Sergeant had been with his Captain defending the servant's quarters when one of the guards protecting the throne room had been dragged to them, held between two massive black monstrosities wearing the most abhorring masks he'd ever seen, and forced to relay that the castle was surrendering. That same poor guard had been towed all around the castle to pass on the message. He'd not survived in the end.

"I'm happy – I'm so cheerful – sir, because I can't do anything about it," said the Private seriously.

Sergeant Clar raised his head and regarded the younger man with a quirked eyebrow. "I'd say that's more cause for discontent."

"On the contrary," rebutted the Private, "that is only for those - and pardon my rudeness - too stupid to pull themselves out of their misery." He hastened on before his superior could process the words. "If everyone went around moping then nothing would get done. And I admit, there's little to be done from our side, but there is hope. We just have to trust in the councilors and the Princess to pull us together and bring back the light. And if it came down to it we'd help in any way we could, but it's not our part yet. Let the higher ups plot and make their move, and if we see a chance, we'll take it. But for right now we need to gently poke and prod for loopholes. Until then allowing your dreariness to fester and pass on to the next poor innocent soul is not the way to go about things. Chin up and high hopes. Haven't you read all the stories? Evil never prevails."

The Sergeant was wordless throughout the lecture. Then he blinked and finally procured a hesitant lift of the lip in a halfhearted one-sided grin.

"You'd make a great Captain one day. Maybe even replace the Commander eventually. Your war speeches will be the stuff of legend."

The Private smiled modestly. "It's only my belief, sir. But, that doesn't mean we can't take the time to grieve. When we're alone, without an image to uphold, we should be free to express ourselves. My mam said she always did like to see a grown man cry because it showed her that he was Hylian. Just as Hylian as any other."

Sergeant Clar nodded, his face once more taking on a grim expression. "Yes, you're right..."

"So…you'll join me at the pub?"

Sighing, Sergeant Clar relented. "I will."

The Private laughed and grinned broadly. "Come on then. Let's finish our rounds. Maybe we can get a good table before the other boys get there."

Shaking his head, he followed after his companion who had quickened his pace and pulled ahead, rushing in enthusiasm. His eyes turned towards the castle, seeing only its turrets peeking over the rooftops of the houses, their stones seeming more grey and dark than ever. He then turned back to the Private, and his eyes narrowed as he glimpsed a small black object at the base of Kine's neck. One would have never known it was there unless looking for it directly or if they were particularly observant. Latched on tightly into the skin right at the nape, its carapace partially camouflaged with Kine's hair, the beetle lay half dormant, ever listening and watching.

Sergeant Clar resisted the urge to put his hand back and feel for the shape of his own, its claws digging like needles into the flesh of his neck. He felt the urge to yank it off but couldn't. Like all the others in the know, he was imprisoned.

* * *

Zelda watched the sky and listened to the soft padding on the stairway. Patiently she waited, her Triforce humming on the back of her hand, yearning to be close to its loyal partner.

She'd left the door open a tad and the creak of it signalled the presence of the one who she awaited.

Turning, her eyes met with the ones of the blue-eyed beast, her first glimpse of the hero. She noted the manacle on his paw and felt a huge sense of relief, for although he'd been imprisoned his was the shortest of all. Nothing would keep him locked up for long, and it was with his freedom that he could roam the land and in turn liberate the rest of them.

She eyed the imp straddling his back and said softly, "so…this is the one, Midna…"

* * *

**A/N:You'll see here that I've taken a different outlook than most over how Hyrule coped with the invasion. Zelda's council does not run away to the safety of their country homes, her soldiers are not all cowards (or if they are they have good reason to be). I feel that the game left a lot of open ended issues, I hope to address many of them here.**

**Please review and give your opinions!**


	2. Isolation

**A/N: Kind of short compared to my chapters in DI. It's a bit different for me.**

**I thank all my reviewers: Wilhelm Wigworthy, winterrose782000, Bloodspire, Pikachu Used Thunderbolt, CupcakePride101, Anelise, and Waffleface, and all those who favorited or alerted this story. Much appreciated and loved!**

* * *

Chapter 2: Isolation

Waiting must have been the worst form of torture contrived by the Goddesses. It allowed for thoughts to simmer, worry to build, and fear to mount. Suspense was its own killer. A buildup of anxiety before an event was to take place to be unleashed all at once when it did happen.

Her thoughts were with the hero as she felt this. How was he proceeding with his quest? Had he reached the first dungeon? Did the light spirit Faron have yet to be freed?

Her lack of information was rankling and for one whose mind was their greatest asset it left her feeling empty and helpless. She wished to know these things yet nothing beyond the chamber she dwelled in reached her. Her meals were sparse and brought up at odd hours, they'd been delivered by the lower class Twili and she could gain no intelligence from them. Her last form of Hylian contact had been a fortnight ago when her castle had been conquered and herself imprisoned. She would not count that one visit from the hero for the reason that he was not completely Hylian at the time.

She recalled the words of her grandfather years ago as he'd tutored her on the necessary fundamentals of war tactics.

_The best way to defeat an enemy is to cut them off, leave them isolated from any potential support or allies, keep them in the dark and – bit by bit – wear down their energy until they are all but powerless. Interaction permits vitality and growth, while isolation leads to decay and disintegration. A country with no allies can easily be decimated. Similarly one may attenuate this tactic and instigate it against a single person. Then that person's entire being shall fall apart. _

Isolated and in the dark, that's what she was.

Zant had employed this very method brilliantly. Locking her in a tower he then meticulously severed all interactions with other people leaving her stranded and surrounded on all fronts by the monsters that served him. He'd disempowered her and removed all freedoms that had once been a right to her. Now a mere glimpse beyond her room was a luxury.

The door itself was not barred nor locked in any way, Zant was much too confident for that. Instead it was encompassed in a magical barrier. Only a being of the Twilight could enter and leave. She could open the door, but she was unable to cross a single foot over the threshold without the assistance of a Twili. It had occurred to her that she could test her powers against the barrier, but she'd not taken the initiative to do so.

Why?

For one reason, it was simply because she had no intention of leaving. She was a willing prisoner, however much Zant may doubt otherwise. He had no cause for such incertitude. She had surrendered Hyrule to the usurper and so she had surrendered herself. She would remain to bear the same fate as her country, no matter what it may be.

In the meantime she'd wait. Wait and depend on a hero of whom she knew nothing about to free her land of the plague that had befallen it.

How she hated to rely on another to save what was hers to save. There were too many 'what ifs', uncertainties in the nature of his quest. Was he suitable for the task? He would inevitably be faced with dangers he'd never before experienced in his life. How would he cope psychologically? And what if he was inept physically? Did he know battle stratagems? One had to be quick of mind as well as quick on their feet in order to properly face an opponent. Was he lacking in either department?

Perhaps it would have been best if she'd gone herself. He held her entire kingdom in his hands. This man could either deliver them or bring them to ruin. So much rode on this one man.

_Goddess Nayru, I beseech thee. Lighten my dark and give me reason for faith. _

An overwhelming warmth flooded her being and Zelda felt all her worries give way to peace. Slowly, her fingers uncurled and her shoulders relaxed as if they'd been thoroughly massaged. She hadn't even noticed they'd been tensed. Calm rushed over her and she sighed in release. If there was one freedom that Zant could not steal from her it was her freedom of being. Her control over self that was her own to bear power over.

With a clear mind she reevaluated her previous thoughts and found that she had nothing but trust in the hero. Trust that he would triumph in this perilous journey. Trust that he'd survive, that he'd not leave her kingdom under cruel dictatorship. For as she was Nayru's chosen, he was Farore's, and Farore would not appoint the title of Legendary Hero to anyone but someone who was worthy of it.

_Oh great Nayru, in your magnificence I am humbled. Forgive this wretched doubter her misgivings. Dear Farore, please guide your chosen hero. Give him strength when he is weakened; give him light when all is dark._

The Triforce on the back of her right hand pulsed, glowing ever brighter until it shone with radiance in the glum room. She stared at it bewildered, and then she felt it. Sensed it, rather. That niggling probe that nudged her soul ever so softly. And then she could feel him. She could feel his courage.

In her mind's eye she saw him.

He was transformed. No longer a beast, but a man. It was as her visions depicted him, tall and green-clad, but still his face eluded her. Midna was with him, in his shadow, spurring him onwards as he delved deep into Faron woods.

Link… his name was Link. He was a wrangler from Ordon. He had no mother or father to speak of, nor any other close relations, only the villagers and the goats.

The light dimmed and the connection was cut off. She staggered in sudden exhaustion and fell on her chaise, too weak to move.

Once again she was alone, surrounded by cold stone. But she no longer despaired. She had access to the outside! Through him she could view how the kingdom was doing beyond the castle walls. The very notion brought tears to her eyes.

_Link, thy name is hope._

And as long as hope remained they could never be fully subdued.

* * *

She had expected him to gloat, to exult in his power over her and glorify in her defeat. The ruler of possibly the greatest country in the entire world, the golden land of the Goddesses, brought to knee before him. Not once had he come calling, nay, she had not seen the evil overlord since that first event of making his acquaintance.

Personally she was glad. She had no desire to be swamped by such an evil presence, nor did she wish to endure whatever derogatory remarks he would throw at her. Court life had made it easy for her to simply steel her mind and her heart so such remarks left not a dent on her and merely slid off like butter on a hot pan. Not that many would dare utter any word of insult against her, directly or indirectly. To do such was treasonous.

As royalty she was not given the right to feel. Emotions had to be contained and expressed with intense control and only at the minutest level whenever a situation called for it, they were only allowed to be expressed freely when in private, where no one could bear witness. Emotions could be read and deciphered and used against a person, and in political society they were one's greatest weakness.

Zant would find her a rather hard egg to crack should he attempt to faze her with words, although the prospect of bodily harm was not overlooked. Zant could always resort to physical blows should he become frustrated with an inadequate response. She had a high tolerance for pain, all women did, how else could they survive the agony of each month's bleeding, how else were they to go through the trials of childbirth without completely losing sanity. However that may be, Zelda had no desire to test the limits of that tolerance.

She was as well dismayed. That he did not visit her implied that his attention was focused elsewhere, on other people or on Hyrule itself.

She knew from experience that running a country took up so many hours of the day, there were so many aspects involved with ruling that the tasks were forced to be divided between different people who each took care of one. These people were generally members of the royal council. They dealt with all issues pertaining to their department and then brought those bearing most importance to the reigning monarch for consideration.

Had Zant kept her council or had he instated his own? It was unlikely that he would take on all the responsibilities himself. His most important known goal was locating and apprehending the imp Midna, an undertaking that required an astounding amount of effort as the imp was as slippery as an eel, having already managed to slither past his notice a number of times.

Not only that, but with no encounters between them there was no way for Zelda to gain insight as to what he was planning.

Since that first experience, Zelda had been able to touch with Link's Triforce twice more, a feat that left her exhausted and magically depleted. She was not used to reaching her power so far across distances. The effort was as straining as holding the end of a metal pole and keeping it horizontally level with her eye. She hoped if she could forge a strong rope of connection between them that she'd be able to directly communicate with him. So far the only reaction he'd ever displayed that hinted to his awareness of her were during his dreams and only to the call of his name. But without information there was no point to communicating with him, so she didn't let it trouble her. She could still feel him, could feel his beating heart, she could tell that he was alive. As long as she had that she was satisfied.

Zant had not expressed any desire to meet with her, so it was with a divided heart that she awaited the approach of the Twilight beasts. She sensed the malevolent magic emanating from two large Twilight Messengers, could hear their cumbersome bodies make their way up the stairs and to her chambers. One wrenched open the door and filled the space with its bulky form.

She stood erect, facing them with calm determination. She was willing to go with them voluntarily, but they still grabbed her and forced shackles around her wrists and a rope around her neck tied like a noose so that it could be tightened with a single tug. She was yanked forward and led down from her tower the same as a condemned prisoner would be led to the gallows.

It was night and the corridors were deserted. She felt like part of a mourning procession. The silence was deafening.

Unsurprisingly, Zant would see her in the throne room where was the scene for most of court life and audiences. It seemed Zant had appropriated the room for his own use. However Zant was not seated in the chair looking down at her imperiously as she thought he would be. Instead he stood before it, tall and arrogant, the added height from the dais raised him so that she had to crane her neck to look at him. She met the gaze of his mask steadily, unyielding in the face of her enemy.

The Twilight Messengers forced her to her knees and gripped an arm each.

She couldn't see Zant's face and that unnerved her. As she donned an invisible mask, Zant wore a physical one, and neither could analyze the other's emotions. Zant strode forward, taking the steps at a leisurely pace.

"Princess Zelda… I apologize for my neglect but lack of opportunity has delayed our meeting until now. I've had a kingdom to run, you can imagine how busy that's left me."

Indeed she could.

And here comes the taunting. He purposefully spoke to ridicule her.

She wouldn't let it affect her. She thought of her people and held firm, her eyes a pair of icy orbs, cold and unfeeling.

"Zant…"

Zant all of a sudden swooped down. Bent at the waist he filled her vision with his loathsome mask. Zelda stared nonchalantly as he grasped her chin in his hand and squeezed it hard.

"That's Lord Zant to you," he hissed then let her go as if she were acid.

Zelda felt the impulse to flex her jaw but fought it down. She could show no sign of weakness. She was unfeeling, immoveable. She was often compared to a cold mountain, tall and firm with the frigidity of a howling snowstorm.

"Lord Zant…" she reiterated and he nodded.

"That's better. Now, there's a purpose for your presence. I'll be blunt." Zant then delved a hand within the long folds of his sleeve and unearthed a small golden bauble no larger than her fisted hand. It was a bell with two grooves made perpendicular to one another and not quite touching. It jingled as he held it. "Do you know what this is?"

Zelda did, but she did not respond directly. Should she feign innocence and stubbornly deny any knowledge about the bell, or should she relent and admit to what it was? Both would provide him no more benefit than he'd initially had, for knowing was different than being able to use the object, or in this case, unlock it.

"It is the seal of perdition," she replied blandly, barely blinking as it was thrust suddenly in front of her face.

"If you know what it is," said Zant ominously. "Then you must know how to open it."

Zelda looked at him evenly. "I cannot."

Zant tossed the bell idly in his hand, a soft ringing echoed with each movement, he stared down at her in an act of intimidation. Her legs hurt from kneeling so long almost to the point of shaking, but she forced herself to remain still. He would know that she was a force to be reckoned with. Her will would not be as easy to conquer as her throne had been.

"Surely you can sense the light magic surrounding it?" said Zant lethargically. "Of course you can, you're a great sorceress, or so I've heard. You know how this power works. You know how to dispel it, don't deny."

"Even so, I cannot."

Zant caught the sphere one last time and curled his fingers around it, clenching it tightly. Zelda would have thought he meant to break it had that act been possible. As such, an object containing power of that magnitude would hardly be dented under the weight of a Goron hammer brought down with full force.

After a full minute, his fist unclenched and he splayed his fingers out, levitating the bell and rotating it above his hand.

"Care to elaborate, my dear princess?" Zant said lowly, his voice hinting at a tint of impatience.

She did not once look at the bell, no matter how it glinted alluringly in the side of her vision. "The seal of perdition is essentially a chest. You need a key to open it."

Zant flexed his hand and the bell stopped spinning. "And where would I find such a key?"

"It is incorporeal, one does not _find_ it. It must appear to them in a breath of enlightenment."

"That is hardly helpful," said Zant testily.

"I stand your enemy, and as such am not required to be of any assistance."

Zant nodded. "That you are correct."

He turned away as if to leave, then spun around, swinging his hand out and whacked her in the face with the bell.

The impact sent her head flying and she was jerked from the Twilight Messengers' hold, falling on her side to the floor. Her jaw felt numb and unnaturally loose. Zelda was hauled up harshly and Zant pushed his fingers into her cheek and neck. With a brutal motion he snapped her jaw back in place causing Zelda to jerk involuntarily.

Tears welled up in her eyes as the shock wore off and she felt the beginnings of a massive bruise form on her right cheek. She couldn't stop them from spilling over. Zant thumbed them away in mocking concern before throwing her at the Twilight Messengers.

"Return her to her room, I have no more use of her at this time," said Zant, crossing his wrists behind his back and facing away in clear dismissal.

The Twilight Messengers jerked her up and pushed her forward ruthlessly.

"Oh, and before I forget…"

There was a silence. Zelda lifted her head and started as a cold hand descended on her face, blocking out her vision, the fingertips pressed into her cheeks and forehead. All at once a dark energy surged through her, forks of black light jolted all over, shocking her.

Her body sagged then everything turned black.

* * *

She awoke to the symphony of black rain battering on her window, a stagnant droll that carried through the room like a constant whine.

She lay on her back on the bed in her prison tower. She stared up at the canopy. A wave of dizziness suddenly overcame her and she closed her eyes and controlled her breathing. She couldn't move. She was completely immobilized. She thought at first had that been Zant's goal, before figuring that it was not due to magical restraints that she couldn't move, it was due to her own weakness. Zant had drained her, removed all excess magic not necessary for her survival, and essentially left her only with a few drops, barely able to sustain her.

She'd thought he had underestimated her at first by relying solely on the barrier and the guards patrolling her tower to tether her to the castle. She realized now that was far from the reality of his intentions. His purpose was to test her, to see what she would do in her imprisonment. He had probably been rooming nearby just in case she had decided to attempt an escape.

She chuckled lowly. He had been so close and _still_ Midna had been able to bypass him, which only confirmed to her that the imp was more than she seemed. What sort of magic did she possess that it went undetected from the usurper king?

No matter, he was no longer taking any chances now. He would be too preoccupied with solving the riddle that was the golden bell. It had astonished her how quickly he'd acquired it. Long had it been hidden within her castle, guarded by the royal family and known to no other. Within it was contained a key, one of three needed to unleash an ancient evil known as Ganondorf. If that was his goal then she could not allow him to succeed. Ganondorf's revival would be the ruin of them all. Eons ago he'd had a reign over Hyrule of seven years and it frightened her the devastation that had been wrought within that time. It had all been erased as the Princess of Destiny had returned the Hero of Time to his younger years and Ganondorf had been sealed within the Sacred Realm, but she believed the chronicled events of her ancestor, and in doing so gave credence to all that Ganondorf was capable of.

However, Zant would be unable to open the bell. Ages of light magic were woven into its making, each new generation of Queens adding another protective ward to supplement the others and only light magic could undo them. That is in effect, only she herself had the ability to shed each ward and open the casket. But Zant hadn't needed to know that. He was a fool to take her words at face value, especially after she so blatantly pointed out that they were enemies and thus she was under no obligation to assist him. Contrarily, she sought to hinder him. And so she'd lied. Now he'd be running around in circles trying to break away the seal. And when he'd eventually turn to her once more…

She'd not do it. Her survival was crucial for Hyrule to thrive, yet it was not paramount to the lives of her citizens. If and when it came down to it, she'd choose death over granting Zant what he wants. A vindictive overlord could be defeated or would wither away with time, but a formidable being who was all but impregnable in his godlike functions…

She'd not allow for it to happen, she would not let Link face that. Ganondorf was tremendously powerful. Even if her hero were to vanquish him he'd not come out unscathed.

Prevention is better than a remedy. That applied to health facts as well as to dealing with dangerous matters. Best not to tap into them at all in order to circumvent them.

Ganondorf would _not_ be revived.

The door creaked open and there was a scrape of metal as her dinner was shoved through. Zelda hadn't even the strength to look at it. So tired was she…

Her stomach clenched in its want to be filled. The soft aroma of cooked stew infiltrated her senses. For a prisoner she was given relatively courteous meals, nothing different than what the servants would dine on daily, however she received them less often than she would like and in too small proportions. The food was not enough to satiate, only enough to keep her in health. The Twili's definition of this was ambiguous at best. She determined that it was alive and moderately functional. As long as she wasn't dying of starvation then all was well.

It bore no importance. She'd survived on less. There had been times of stress where she'd refuse to come out of her study for sleep much less to eat.

She listened to the comforting rhythm of the rain and imagined herself outside being doused in its cool touch, kissed by those tiny droplets running along her face. How pleasant it would be to simply take a walk in it, or admire its cleansing beauty as she sat within the mouth of a cave observing it while in the comfort of a warm fire.

Wait. Cave?

It was then that she felt the pulse on her hand, the brilliant glow that signaled the activation of her Triforce, but it was not of her doing. Something tugged at her soul, gentle and hesitant as if afraid to harm.

Zelda allowed the sensation to pull her under and entered into a deep sleep.

She opened her eyes and was greeted with a black void, a speckling of stars dusting in all directions. Then a floating platform manifested itself beneath her feet, her boots clacked on dull grey marble. Pillars rose up all around, half decimated and crumbling, parts of a torn wall reached high to the left. It was as if standing on the landscape of some ancient structure.

"Princess?"

His form was abstract before her, but then slowly it took concreteness until he stood in full body, gazing in awe around him and no doubt mentally scratching his head at the peculiarity of the situation.

Zelda watched him absorb the extraordinary happenings and for the first time could see his face, vibrant and clear and so full of wonder she couldn't help but smile at him. "Hero…"

He snapped his head around and once he caught sight of her a great smile overtook his face. He breeched the distance between them at a jog and stopped a few feet away. "So it worked. I hadn't thought it would. I heard you calling me, and at first I had thought it to be trickery of the mind, but then Midna urged me to respond. Had I known she was right I'd have attempted to reach you sooner."

So he had felt the forming of the foundation of her bridge and finished its construction thus opening a path between them. That was why they were able to take on solid forms and speak freely.

Oh the possibilities that this provided!

"You choose an interesting location. It resembles one of the ancient temples of forgotten times," she said, and Link took a quick look around him.

"I chose this?" he asked in awestruck wonder.

"It was you who initiated our contact," she said, eyes softening. Because she hadn't the strength to reach out to him, it was too trying a task to risk in her condition, not that she could anyways. No, all this was because of Link. "Is this an illustration from a memory? Have you been here before?"

Link shook his head. "No, never."

"You have a wonderful imagination then."

Link tilted his head and smiled at the compliment. He then turned serious, his blue eyes penetrating and his brows furrowing. "Are you alright? Has anything happened at the castle?"

Had it been her real body standing currently in his presence he would have seen the result of the hit from the bell to her face, would have espied the deep circles underlying her eyes, her tired and ashen form so different than what it had been a few weeks ago.

As it was, he saw her as she envisioned herself, whole and in good health.

"I am quite alright," she responded gaily and without remorse. "The most I suffer is from boredom. Life has become monotonous, but otherwise it is as if I'm on holiday with no duties to attend to."

He chuckled and sighed in relief. "I admit I was worried. When I heard my name spoken in your voice I had been unsure whether it was the result of stress or if you were calling out in trouble."

He had been worried…? For her…?

As any who were devoted to their sovereign would be. She determined to assuage him. "As you can see, I am safe and unharmed. I am merely a trophy that the usurper wished to collect."

"But you _will_ notify me if something does happen?" he insisted.

She acquiesced. "Yes…"

No, she would not. She would only guide him, not distract him with her own plight.

He exhaled and she could see that this had been bothering him for some time.

_Worry not, hero. Focus on completing your quest. That is all that matters._

His image began to distort and Zelda felt herself being pulled away. Link's eyes widened in panic as he witnessed his hands going transparent as his form shimmered out of existence.

"We are out of time," said Zelda. "Brace yourself, Hero. Upon waking you may find your energy depleted. Rest well before heading out."

She was gone before he had a chance to reply. Once more she felt heavy and cold. When next she opened her eyes she was back in her tower, her body stiff and sore but to her delight she found that she had movement. Laboriously she rolled over and pushed herself shakily up on her elbows. Her tray was by the door, food cold and untouched. Weakly she got out of bed and stumbled to it. She had to preserve her energy and to do so she had to eat.

Simply eating was a long and onerous affair. Her jaw and cheek both ached and she had difficulty chewing so mushed as much as she could with her fork before consuming it.

She huddled under her covers after managing the daunting task of returning to bed. Little had changed. The tower was still as cold as ever, the stone just as bleak, but she no longer felt isolated. Progress had been made.

Now, she was getting somewhere.

* * *

**A/N: Just so you know, credit goes to the American strategist John Boyd for the paragraph about isolation and war tactics. **

**Woah, this is really starting to deviate from the game. Hope you guys don't mind. **

**This is sort of a different writing style for me, it feels like I'm writing poetry almost. Tell me what you think of it.**


	3. Terror

**Thank you: Waffleface, Bloodspire, DracoDraco, and Pikachu used Thunderbolt for reviewing!**

**Thank you Waffleface for bringing those errors to my attention. I have replaced Twilight Assassins with Twilight Messengers, and Iron Knuckles with Darknuts (although I'll still keep them in the story for now). Thanks ^^! **

**Had some time on my hands, so the next chapter is up. Hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

Chapter 3: Terror

Zelda writhed and moaned on her bed, twisting the covers this way and that. She snapped awake, an awful feeling dwelling in the pit of her stomach. The vision took her suddenly.

A drop of water… and Zelda opened her eyes.

A monstrous three-headed parasite rose before her, jaws gaping and tongues lolling. The center head shot forward and roared, displaying a rack of impressive teeth and a bulbous tongue. It flayed side-to-side then reared up.

The room resembled the interior of a tree, the parasite rooted in a bed of thick purple sludge that steamed and bubbled. It was a rendition of one's worst nightmare.

And in the middle of it all was Link.

Zelda watched horrified as he battled the parasite Diababa.

The first thing she felt from him was tremendous fear. He was exhausted and that exhaustion made him weak and afraid. She sensed his emotions and worries. He'd never done this before. The monster was too difficult, a massive thing that desired nothing less than to consume him.

One of the side heads, a larger and more ghastly version of a deku baba, chomped its teeth and flayed its blue tongue then flung itself forward. Link avoided it just as it clamped down on the air where he'd been standing moments ago. He tightened his grip on a white boomerang, eyes searching anxiously and sweat beading on his forehead.

She was incorporeal and so could not do anything to assist him and she did not know whether she was more glad or disappointed at it. Glad because then she'd not have to live this nightmare herself, and disappointed because Link was alone in this battle with no other to depend on. It made her frustrated, if only she could in some way lend her assistance.

Putting his boomerang aside, he dodged and then ran at the next head to attack, catching it while it lagged. His sword bounced harmlessly off its armored shell and he jolted back, cursing with frustration. He was overwhelmed. He couldn't do it. He wasn't strong enough to face it.

_No. Don't give up! Hero, don't give in!_

He ran as a blast of revolting purple liquid hurled from the monster's mouth. His legs ached, muscles working to keep ahead of the spray of acid. He reached the wall of the cavern, out of the beast's range. He leaned against the wall for a short respite, panting heavily. He fancied leaving this all behind, the door was not five feet away, so tempting.

Zelda held her breath, watching fearfully. She could feel his pain and could deduce what he was thinking by his emotions and body language and from them she read regret. Regret that he'd ever taken on such an impossible enterprise. What foolishness had compelled him to take up such a massive mantle? He wanted to leave and forget about this, not come back to face alone the perils that would require a military division to fell.

_You can't turn back! Hyrule needs you!_

He covered his mouth as another spray of acidic regurgitation was expelled from the monster's bowels. He shrank against the wall, waiting for it to desist, eyes trailing once again longingly to the wooden door.

Zelda despaired. He was slowly giving in. No! He could not abandon his duty so soon!

_What about your friends? What about me? _

But as much as he desired to simply give up, to cast his fate aside, he couldn't do it. His mind and heart raged within him, split in two, adhering to his personal wants and overall well-being, and care for the lives he had to protect, the people from Ordon and his fealty to Hyrule. He'd been charged with protecting the lives of its citizens. In order to prevent darkness from taking over the land, they depended on him to save it. Between the two he had little choice.

He kept his legs moving at a jog. He was afraid they'd seize up if he stopped.

_Faith, hero! Defeat this beast of evil and free the land of its putrid taint._

He raised up his sword. Above all he must endure!

A cry from above momentarily distracted him as a monkey emerged from an opening. It turned its back on him and when it once again faced him it revealed an insect clutched by its legs. The monkey then began to swing across the room, dangling the insect under it.

Zelda saw a spark alight in the hero's eyes, his spirit renewed. The significance of the monkey's presence eluded her, but it appeared to bolster the hero as he sheathed his sword and withdrew his boomerang, holding it aloft. A swirling wind energy flowed around it and Zelda was mesmerized as she watched him aim then release. It snatched the insect from the monkey's feet then flew directly into the parasite. The parasite automatically chomped down on it. It trembled then a bang filled the chamber and smoke emitted from its mouth. The two deku baba heads fell into the water as the main body dropped forward, mouth splayed wide open and vulnerable.

Link took this opportunity to slice at the bulb on its tongue and it jerked and howled with every slice. With one last stab it keened. It reared up, crying in pain, flaying its thick body side to side then seized. It shriveled, its body turning black and thinning as if all the water had been wrenched from it. With one last whine it stilled then burst into a cloud of smoke.

At Diababa's death the water cleared and turned a pure blue, the air became fresh and light filled the chamber.

Something fell from above and the imp, Midna, emerged from Link's shadow to retrieve it.

Link however was preoccupied. He gazed around in search of something.

"Princess?"

Had he heard her? Did he feel her presence now?

Her questions were answered as he stared directly at her, expression riddled with unsuspecting surprise. He saw her as a faint outline, but enough to tell who she was.

The bridge between them had grown stronger.

She smiled at him.

_Confidence, hero. You are stronger than you believe._

Jaw dropping in wonder, he reached towards her just as the scene began to fade away.

In her tower, Zelda pulled back the covers and drew her legs up, winding her arms around them and resting her chin on her knees.

That had been close. Link was Hyrule's only hope, she could not afford to lose him now. And he'd been so frighteningly close to renouncing his title and the duties that came with it. She couldn't allow that to happen. She'd have to constantly remind him what was at stake and the penalties that came with losing.

Sufficiently spooked, she closed her eyes and awaited the dawn with growing trepidation.

* * *

He called on her again.

So soon?

If this were any ordinary circumstance she'd feign being flattered. She'd never be truly flattered of course. Flattery was for others whenever she deigned even the remotest bit of attention on them, her time and consideration were precious, people fought for it. It had never been the other way around. Suitors especially could be quite the hassle. A single word which lacked her regular tint of disdain and they thought they were well on their way to courtship.

Eighteen had been the year that traditionally young men and women were allowed to begin the courting process, but that had been too early for her. Even at nineteen and now twenty she considered herself too young to bond with another in the chains of matrimony. Twenty-five. If she had found no interest by then, then that was the year she'd force herself to procure an interest, or at least give the best stock of the males some due cogitation.

Goddesses, it was like picking out a stud for breeding, although she'd never admit to thinking of them in such terms. Her suitors envisioned a life happily married to the future Queen, reveling in their status of consort – a king? What would she have the need for of the liability? Someone of equal status to question her decisions and orders would only hinder her reign – but to her their only necessity was to help her conceive proper heirs. She had no preference as to the gender of her heirs, although a son might share more of her interests than a daughter. Yes, a son would do. She'd have to teach him to be invulnerable to feminine persuasions however, and in that regard a daughter would be simpler to handle as it would be she who would be doing all the persuading.

Back to present, for the second time the Twilight Messengers barged into her room and bound her securely in chains and rope. She followed on her leash as they descended the stairs, past the rigid Darknut foursome that stood guard before her stairway, immobile as statues as they walked by.

She was yanked forward as she fell too far behind, the rope constricting around her neck. She pulled at it to loosen it up. There'd be bruises and burn marks for sure.

She was shoved unceremoniously in the throne room and harshly met the end of the length of rope. Her eyes teared from the lack of air. She was grateful when she was given some slack.

Zant was upon her then, swooping down like an omniscient shadow. The Twilight Messenger's grips were too tight on her as they forced her down, her knees hitting the marble hard and sending dull pangs of pain through her.

She ignored it and stared resolutely ahead.

"Ah, princess. Could not wait to see me again? Our previous rendezvous had entranced you, I'm sure," said Zant, his voice like the hissing of a snake.

Zelda did not bother to correct him, that it was by force that she was brought before him and made to endure his repulsive presence.

She remained silent as he paced around her like a predator, emphasizing how helpless and cornered she was.

"No remark? You have nothing to say to me? How rude. If I were less understanding, I'd have the mind to be insulted."

She felt the hairs on the back of her head standing on end as he paced behind her. It bothered her that she could not see him, and she wouldn't twist around to do so, that would only confirm her wariness of him.

He came around into her vision and stopped before her. Her eyes were met with the dark layers of his robes.

"Look at me!"

She fought not to frown and stayed as she was, nonchalant and unaffected by his increasingly threatening tone.

Her chin was grabbed, cheeks squished between pale fingers as her head was jerked up.

"I demand you to look at me!"

The pressure of his fingers brought pain to her still tender jaw, his thumb digging into the bruise she had sustained from the bell. Slowly she met his gaze unwaveringly.

"That's better," he said, letting go of her chin. "I never knew that the Hylian royalty could have such an attitude."

He folded his hands behind his back and gazed at her sullenly. "Do you know why I have brought you here?"

At her silence he reached for her again, his hand aimed halfheartedly stretched towards her face.

"No," she answered too quickly for her liking, revealing her panic. But it was too late to take back now. Luckily it seemed he didn't notice.

"Well then," he started, bringing out the same golden bell from within his sleeve. "I don't suppose you have new information you'd like to release regarding this little trinket?"

At her deadpan looked he tutted. "I thought not." With a flick of his wrist the bell vanished back into his sleeve and he once again looked pensive.

"You know, I've heard rumors… about a knight, a boy really, in green clothes," he paused as if waiting for some reaction on her part. "They say he set the woods free of Twilight. Not all too improbable, I suppose, although it is a commendable accomplishment, but what does surprise me is that he's full _Hylian_. He'd have to be a Twili to return the light. Or… maybe he has the assistance of a Twili being? Now where do you suppose he'd acquire the help?"

He knew about Link! No! Not yet! Link wasn't ready for him!

Did he suspect that his Twili helper was Midna as well? He must. Why else would he bring it up to her in such a fashion other than to provoke a response? He wanted to see what she knew about them. If she denied any knowledge then it would only confirm that she possessed valuable information, but she couldn't give him away either.

"It is said," she voiced as steadily as possible. "That in times of peril a hero will arise to vanquish the evil."

Zant chuckled lowly. "A Hylian superstition? Foolishness. Don't tell me you place credence in such nonsense?"

She looked at him steely and Zant seemed to grow more amused. "You do, don't you? Oh, this is too much. You acknowledge the helplessness of your own situation so place unwarranted trust on another to do your job for you. Well, as long as you're less of a hassle because of it, then it doesn't matter. This _hero_ of yours is probably some no account peasant who thinks there's some worth to him. We'll see how cocky he is once he's killed by one of my minions."

The panicky thoughts that swirled in her mind all at once faded. He was underestimating him. To Zant, Link was simply a pesky flea, bothersome but not entirely deserving of any attention. That would be his folly. The more Zant ignored Link the more time Link would have to grow stronger until he became a big problem.

Zant suddenly bent down and grasped her chin, gently this time. She could see this becoming a nasty habit of his. Slowly he leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

"And why should you have to depend on another?" he said sweetly, and Zelda tensed. "Why should you have to fight at all? Serve me and you can walk free. Better yet, you can keep your title. Your people will go unharmed. I heard that you are a powerful sorceress. I can make you a general at my side, you'd have privileges that no other would have. Anyone who stands against you, who dares to even look at you with nothing less than reverence, will answer to me, this I promise."

He was bargaining with her. His voice had a sugared tone, perfect for coercion, but evil was temptation and all things tempting. No matter how enticing his offers were they were all rooted in lies. She'd be no more than a slave to do as he willed whenever he willed it, and her people would be drawn into that slavery as well. Worse yet she'd not be in a position to rule.

"I refuse," she said monotonously.

Zant stilled, then he pulled back and faced her with his nightmarish mask and headdress. "But don't you see? This will be the only way for you and your people to escape the tortures that I will soon unleash upon the world. Your people will become citizens of the Twilight and therefore protected, and then we shall spread out and conquer all the surrounding nations."

Of course. What else would a tyrant's greatest desire be but to conquer the world?

He was deluding himself. Not even with a hundred thousand men would he succeed. His forces would be spread too thin and then easily picked off little by little.

"I still refuse," she said with a trace of finality to her voice.

Zant was anything but pleased. This she could tell by his terse silence and the way he abruptly drew back from her. He shot to his feet and seemed to tremble as if trying to force down some repressed emotion.

And then he snapped.

"Well fine!" he shot shrilly. "I see my generosity is unwarranted from a selfish little witch like you! You could have been great! You could have been revered! Instead you spit in my face! Your rudeness does appall me! You shall regret this! And when your people are in chains and made to serve me and the Twili, you shall be the lowest of the low, made to serve me personally like the dog you are!"

He snapped his fingers and the Twilight Messengers hauled her to her feet and dragged her away.

The doors to the throne room shut behind her and she could still hear Zant's screeching through the walls as he threw a mad fit of anger.

Zelda was shaken. Not by the anger he'd displayed, but his resounding promise to her. Her people would become slaves to the Twili…

_Oh, Link, please be safe_.

He had triumphed at the first dungeon, but how much longer until Zant turned his full attention to the hero?

She was dragged along a hallway with double rows of high pillars bordering each side and a red carpet under her feet. The left wall had arches that opened up to the outdoors and Zelda wished for a fresh breeze of air to rush over her. She prevented herself from staring beyond those arches. The thought of such openness being so close to her but unattainable was torturous.

She shivered in the cold air. Her dress had an open back and despite her long hair covering most of it her lower back remained exposed and vulnerable to chill. She wished fervently for her cloak right now.

A gasp emitted from behind one of the pillars, as well as a shuffling of feet.

Zelda snapped her head around and widened her eyes horrified at the sight of one of her servants, a young girl named Lilly, as she stared equally wide eyed at Zelda.

A massive black body shot past her making headway towards Lilly.

"No! Wait!" Zelda was tugged back by her noose and she struggled against it, desperately.

Lilly screamed as the Twilight Messenger drew near. Zelda forced a hand between the noose and her neck, her eyes taking on a determined glare. Pooling her magic she shattered the chains around her wrists and burnt away the rope. She sent a wave of light magic against the Twilight Messenger still guarding her and it flew backwards into the wall.

Knowing she had very little time – who knew what they'd do to Lilly – she thrust out her hands and caught the other Twilight Messenger at a standstill, freezing it in its tracks. With another wave of power she switched places with the beast, stationing herself between the Twilight Messenger and her servant.

"Your highness!" Lilly cried out, and Zelda's focus was brought to the Twilight Messenger she had thrown as it hurled towards her.

Her Triforce shone brightly, the energy heating up on the back of her hand as she threw it out at the beast and decimated it completely. Her legs shook as she panted. Her body was still mostly drained and she had just wasted what valuable little magic she had been building up in her reserves. There'd be no possible way she could defeat the last one. But she could allay it.

She blinked, forcing her vision to clear as she brought both her arms up in an X and sent out a defensive barrier. The Twilight Messenger thudded into it and the barrier wavered. It then proceeded to pound on it with its fists, howling madly.

Zelda shook with every blow, her energy nearly spent.

Finally with one last hit she could no longer hold it up. It dropped, and her along with it.

"No! Your highness!"

Lilly's voice sounded like a muffled drawl as Zelda lay there dizzy on the floor. She couldn't move, she could barely breathe. Each inhale and exhale became a challenge and slowly her vision spotted.

The last thing that registered before she was swept into the folds of unconsciousness was a frightened scream and the sight of two familiar boots as Zant came to stand before her.

* * *

As was fast becoming commonplace, she woke with a pounding headache under the covers of her bed. She'd been stripped and placed in a white slip that clung to her comfortably. It didn't take her long to realize that she was wearing nothing beneath the slip and in panic she thought about who could have dressed her. She hoped to the Goddesses that it was a servant, even a male one would do over who she suspected.

"Awake I see."

Goddesses, he was here!

Slowly, almost hesitant, she trailed her gaze to the person seated crossed legged at the foot of her bed, head resting in his palm as if he'd been in deep thought.

Zelda tried to get up but the attempt made her feel ill.

"Lie back down. You aren't well enough to be moving about," said Zant almost patronizingly.

She obeyed, but only because her body refused to do anything otherwise.

"Why are you here?" she asked hoarsely, her throat dry and thirsty.

But Zant ignored her, having no consideration for either her question nor her bodily needs.

"I was a little disappointed when first we met that I didn't get to witness your powers at work, but I was elated to do so now. And I must say, all that light, all that glorious warmth and brightness… is sickening. No, the Twilight would serve you much better. Or it would have had you accepted my proposal. But I don't give second chances. You were stupid to refuse me, foolish girl."

Her mind slowly reached clarity and all of a sudden the events that had rendered her unconscious came back to her. Lilly! What happened to Lilly?  
"Where is Lilly? I wish to speak with her."

Zant sat unmoving.

"That pathetic little servant girl who was wandering about the halls after hours?" he intoned cruelly. "It's illegal, you know. No Hylian is allowed outside their rooms after dark. Lilly has been detained. She's awaiting the penalty for her disobedience."

Zelda grew panicked. "She's young, she's a minor, not yet sixteen!"

"And still subject to my laws. It was her fault she was snooping around in places she's not supposed to. You want me to be lenient with her just because of her age? That does not excuse her. She knew better, she was well aware of the risks of disobeying. She only has herself to blame."

When she'd seen that Twilight Messenger charge towards Lilly she'd been afraid for the young girl's life. Yet, now that might have been a mercy compared to what Zant had planned for her.

"What will you do with her?" Her voiced wavered ever so slightly and Zant cocked his head as if reveling in it. The first tinge of fear he'd elicit from the impenetrable Princess.

"It's not what I'm going to do with her. It's what you're going to do with her," said Zant lightly.

Zelda felt the buddings of hope for the girl, but she knew there must be a catch. Zant would not let her go so lightly.

"Perhaps if you elaborated then I'd be made aware of the conditions with which I am to work with," she said as civilly as possible. She was not about to risk Lilly's safety by being difficult.

"Very wise of you, yes there are conditions, or rather there's one condition. You get to choose."

Choose? Zelda didn't like the direction this was taking.

Zant went on. "I've been reading about Hyrule, its history, laws, unearthing your countries dirty secrets. I've had a keen interest in the many ways in which Hyrule doled out their punishments to lawbreakers. Most of them have been abolished, unfortunately, but I'd like to bring them back. A new beginning for a new era."

Her mind instantly went to _Hyrule's Bloody History_, a thick tome written by one of the long extinct Sheikahs. It depicted the worst methods of torture and ways to extract information. The methods used for interrogation had sickened her.

It was evident that Zant spoke of this book, he probably kept it at his bedside table to read late into the night.

"Lucky you, you get to choose which punishment she shall experience. Normally I'd have us both peruse each one together and pick out our favorites, but there were two that really stood out to me and I couldn't decide which one I liked better, so the option falls to you." Zant leaned forward with the eagerness of a child. "Would you have her bear lashes as penance, a traditional method, but I've always had quite a fondness for it, or hung by her wrists. Both will take place in the courtyard either way, have to make an example of her. So choose."

None! She wanted to choose neither! But Zant made it clear it was either one or the other. Why did he have to let the choice fall to her. She couldn't bear the thought of being the instigator for Lilly's pain.

As if having read her thoughts, Zant added. "And if you don't choose, then I'll simply have to go with both."

Zelda felt bile rise to her throat, but forced herself to think. The lashes would be a more painful ordeal, depending on how many she might not survive. Being hung by her wrists seemed much more tame in comparison. If she had to choose she'd go with the less painful one.

"Hung by her wrists…"

Zant chuckled cruelly, and Zelda began to doubt her decision.

"Very well, she shall be hung on the flagpole by her wrists for a full three days and nights, and weights will be tied to her ankles. Let us hope that the flagpole doesn't break by then, or sometimes I've heard that the wrists become so tenderized that the ropes will cut through them."

Three days!

"You can't be serious! Three days! That's too much for her!"

"Two days then. We are in accordance." Zant hopped off her bed and strode to the single window allotted her in her confinement. "I'll even be generous enough to have her strung up in full view so you can watch and make sure she does not fall. Nothing you can do if she does though. I'm sure you'll enjoy the display, nevertheless."

What had she done? Lashes may be harsh, but at least they'd be over with quickly. But to be hung up for two days straight and with the addition of weights! She'd be stretched and torn! Lilly was just as likely to survive that as she was the lashings. And if she did die by the hanging Zelda had only managed to prolong her death.

How cruel.

Her heart clenched in fear for the girl and what she would endure. Zant made his way towards the door.

"I'm certain she'll be delighted to hear of this new order from her Princess. Do enjoy the show, will you."

It was not until he was long gone that Zelda burst into tears, curling herself into a ball and crying into her pillow. She hadn't cried in years and for her to do so now made her feel weak and vulnerable. But there was a difference between crying for oneself and crying for others. She cried for Lilly now. Cried for her foolishness in placing herself in such a dangerous situation and getting caught, and for her impending punishment and the pain she would bear with it.

Zelda was terrified. Terrified that she had condemned a young girl to her death.

* * *

**A/N: So I'm following people's typical depictions of TP Zelda's personality. Cold and hard, but also mature and soft-hearted. Isn't that a contrast. Makes her tricky to write. I also give Zant more limelight. I think his fall to madness in the game was a bit sudden. Nothing wrong about it, but here I'm giving hints at his potential mental instability. **

**I hope the scene at the beginning of the chapter doesn't feel too much like a Twilight Princess rewrite. It's just meant to show how Link might have doubted himself when he first started out. **

**Any questions you have feel free to pm me. **


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